Effie And Hatmitch You Call THAT a Kiss!
by xDracotheDeathEaterx
Summary: What happens when you take two  supposedly  sober adults who  supposedly  hate each other, put them in a room with some jello, and have them  supposedly  fall in love with each other? Read it! Review it! Love it!


EFFIE AND HAYMITCH-YOU CALL _THAT_ A KISS? XD

" I just can't believe you did this to me, Peeta! Now everyone's going to think I'm weak!" Katniss stormed out of the dining room, slamming the door behind her. Peeta, with an embarrassed shrug at the disgruntled Haymitch and Effie, followed her. "Katniss! No, wait up! Come on, it'll help us get sponsors! I promise! I wouldn't do this for no reason!"

The awkward silence rang in the air like a cannon-blast. Effie re-adjusted her wig (today it was a plum-purple updo) and tapped her neatly manicured nails on the table. She glanced across at Haymitch, and was shocked to see that he was smirking in a self-satisfied way, arms folded across his chest, tipped back in the expensive chair like he owned it.

"What in the world are you grinning at, Haymitch?" Effie snapped. "Don't you see how easily people could see through his lie?" She was talking about the bold claim Peeta had just made during his interview. A gusty move, yes, but a dangerous one as well. It was as good as talking to the wall. Haymitch, who was obviously already intoxicated, paid no attention to the frazzled Effie.

"_ The Star-Crossed Lovers From District Twelve," _ chirped Haymitch in a sing-song voice. " Isn't it just gorgeous? We'll be reeling in the Sponsors. We'll have to keep them from running into the arena. As if anyone would want to do _that._" He chuckled loudly and took a huge swig of whatever was in his golden goblet. Effie bristled.

"I don't see how you can just sit there and_ chuckle _when your tributes' sponsorships are at stake!" she said through clenched teeth. Haymitch continued to grin. "You know you look like a goose when you're angry? You swell up and your voice gets all hissy, like a gas leak."

Effie was certainly not in the mood. She made an attempt at a snippy retort, but all she could come up with was a vauge noise that sounded like "Mmmmpf!". Haymitch rolled his eyes, and Effie was startled to see that they were piercingly blue, like the sky. She had never even noticed that before. "But I didn't say you weren't adorable when you're angry. That, Sweetheart, would be a lie."

Effie felt herself go scarlet from her head to her toes. Although she had just secretly been admiring Haymitch, she now wished she could take it all back. He was nothing but a drunken fool! She got to her feet. "Don't," Effie said dangerously, " EVER call me Sweetheart!" Haymitch laughed openly now, eyeing her over the top of his goblet. "What crawled up your ass this morning, Sweetheart? I was only playing!"

Before Effie had any time to react, Haymitch grabbed a spoon and flung a piece of gellatin, leftover from dessert, at Effie. She squealed as the squishy red goop hit her in the chest and disappeared into her fushia blouse. "Oh my GAWD, HAYMITCH!" She bent over and attempted to retrieve the gellatin from its hiding place somewhere in her clothing. Haymitch grinned like a fox as he enjoyed the generous view of Effie's cleavage, noting that his day just got a whole lot better. When she straighted up, wig askew, Effie looked as if she was so angry she could only stare at Haymitch, eyes open wide like a goldfish out of water. A violently purple goldfish, Haymitch noted, with lots of beauty hidden behind pasty face-paint and huge false eyelashes.

"You are certainly one of a kind," Effie said after a while. "A one of a kind, cheap, sleazebag drunk who won the Hunger Games back in the ye olde days by sheer luck and a whole lot of testosterone!" Haymitch winked at her. "I love you too, Sweetheart!" While Effie glowered at him, he raised his goblet and toasted her. "To Effie and Haymitch!" he crowed. "May the odds be ever in our favor!"

Effie shook her head wordlessly at Haymitch, the one man that she got stuck with who happened to be a drunk, and a nasty flirt to boot. When she didn't raise her glass, Haymitch shrugged and dumped the liquid into his mouth. He rested his chin in his hand, surveying Effie as if she were a particularly interesting television program. "You know, I've never seen you without one of those wigs on." His voice was suprisingly gentle and clear for a man that had most likely been drinking all day.

Something was flying between them, a tangible something, like a caged bird. Effie didn't know what it was, but she was sure that Haymitch could feel it too, by the way he was looking at her. Slowly, as if in a dream, she raised her hand and pulled off the fushia wig, letting it fall to the floor. Effie's golden curls spilled forth, the curls that had been her pride as a child and now were a nuisance, the part of her that she tried to cover up every day with extravagant wigs and expensive dyes. She blinked. Why? why was she doing this? Effie didn't trust Haymitch. Never had, never will. But now, she wasn't so sure.

Haymitch rose and walked slowly around the table to face her. He took a silk hankercheif from somewhere in his suit. Tenderly, as if handling a baby, Haymitch wiped the white concealer from Effie's face. She closed her eyes and let him, not even knowing if she was awake or asleep anymore. "See, " he whispered. "Now I can see the real you."

Without all her makeup on, Effie felt different, free. Now she opened her eyes, aware of how close Haymitch was to her. The strange part was, she didn't even care. She could hear herself breathing, as well as him, and was aware of how much her heart was pounding. "Can I see the real you?" she whispered into the tiny space between them.

Haymitch leaned forward slightly and kissed the tip of Effie's nose. She blinked, suprised and delighted at the same time. Suprisingly delighted, actually. "That's all? You call _that _a kiss? I've had better kisses from my grandmother!" Effie growled. To prover her point, she pulled Haymitch to herself and began passionately snogging him until she felt her tounge going numb.

Haymitch gently prised her arms off his neck. Eyes lit up, shaggy blonde hair surrounding his round face, he looked like a little boy who just realized that today was Christmas. But then he actually walked out the door! It didn't quite register in Effie's mind that she had just kissed the man she previously loathed. Effie ran to the doorframe, almost tripping on her skirt, wiping the saliva from her mouth and calling out a last desperate attempt at Haymitch's attention. " HAYMITCH ABERNATHY, YOU GET BACK HERE AND TELL ME EXACTLY WHAT JUST HAPPENED! YOU WOULDN'T BE DOING THIS IF YOU WERE SOBER!"

Haymitch didn't stop walking, but she could still hear his voice. "First thing, Sweetheart. I haven't had a snogging that good since...since the last time I saw my grandmother. Secondly, I AM sober!" His laughter echoed in the hallway as his footsteps faded. Effie laughed too, and when she started she couldn't stop. The whole thing was so absurd! And yet... It seemed as if Katniss and Peeta weren't the only Star-Crossed Lovers this Hunger Games.


End file.
